An Accidental Savior
by Kayliem1999
Summary: Jim had so many chances to help Maggie, but every chance he got he did something stupid like open his mouth. But one time, he got it right in an unlikely place. After several drinks and slurred words, Jim saves the day. But that's the thing about alcohol, sometimes you do things you wouldn't do if you were sober. What happens and what eye opening mistake could change their lives?
1. Chapter 1

He felt horribly guilty. How had this even happened anyway, how had he allowed this to happen? Jim was supposed to look out for Maggie, she needed to be protected. But somehow, she had managed to slip out of his watchful gaze. Maggie had gone and boarded a plane to Africa before anyone had bothered to even alert him that she was leaving the country. And for what? To prove to him that she could handle herself.

And it had gone to hell. No one had really told him what happened, but whatever it was, it was enough to shake her up. Jim had found her curled up in the stairwell and he could've done more that night. Could've comforted her or at least offered to walk her home, but he didn't. When he saw how one sided the conversation was, be jut left her there.

Then, she came to work the next day and her hair was gone. Well, not entirely gone, but no longer that beautiful sunshine golden blonde. But red, like kool-aid. And he could smell it on her. That horrible stench of alcohol that was the tell tale sign that she was even worse off than her appearance would lead you to believe.

What had he done? He had encouraged it like some ignorant jerk. Jim had prescribed vodka, telling Maggie that it was harder to smell and the hangover wasn't so bad. But this was Maggie he was talking to; the girl who could get drunk off of half of an apple martini. He should have told her to get some help or at least asked her to talk to him about it. But he was too busy with his own life to even pick up on the signs.

It wasn't until Hallie had pointed out that she had changed her hair and Lisa had said that he had done it herself that it even began to sink in. And by then, he didn't know what he could do to help. She was so far gone and ever word that came out of his mouth was laced with what seemed to be his chronic stupidity.

When Maggie returned to work with her hair blonde again, he let out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding in. It was okay, Maggie was okay, Jim told himself. He didn't know how wrong he was.

Maggie had changed. She wasn't just a shy, little producer anymore that hid behind her bangs. She was Maggie Jordan, ACN problem-solving producer who oozed confidence. And a promising reporter? It all had to be okay, didn't it? She was turning into this irresistibly sexy woman, a force to be reckoned with.

And she just seemed to swoop in and save the day with a swipe of the hand and the pressing of a few buttons. She looked kinda cute in her ACN baseball cap and her smudged mascara. Jim couldn't help but smile at the glimpse he got of the old Maggie when she struggled to type up the breaking news banner.

"Your fly's down," she stated coolly walking out of the control room. Jim couldn't help but watch her exit the room, his eyes glued to her subtle curves and his head following the say of her hips. He also couldn't help, but agree with Don when he said that he thought that the new Maggie was sexy.

But then he realized, she had taken his suggestion. Jim saw a bottle of Vodka sticking out of her bag while they were working on the EPA report. He knew that he should've said something, but his brain appeared to be separated from his tongue and instead he continued to push her buttons instead of comment on the ugly demon peeking out of her designer briefcase.

One time. One time Jim Harper was smart enough to actually do the right thing and it was just a little twist of fate. An accident really. He wouldn't have even been in that bar if Hallie hadn't kicked him out. Actually, he wouldn't have been there if he hadn't returned to their apartment to find it empty and free of all of Hallie's belongings.

Maggie had done a pretty good job of keeping to herself for most of the night, but she had one drink too many. She almost made it out of there, but the thing with Maggie is that when she drink, the first thing to go is her depth perception. And that's how she wound up on her ass in the middle of a crowd surrounded by an overturned tray and a pool of shattered glass.

Jim caught a glimpse of her blonde hair and before he could comprehend what was happening he had laid down a wad of cash on the bar and crossed the room. It wasn't until he was cradling a delirious Maggie in his arm that he realized what was happening. He was doing what he had set out to do all those months ago, protect her, even if he was almost as drunk as her.

"Jim," Maggie shouted, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Maggie," Jim said.

Sometime during the taxi ride back to his apartment, Maggie had passed out. Jim carried her up the two flights and after a minute of struggling, got the door opened.


	2. Chapter 2

Maggie woke up the next morning feeling the heat of another body against her back. A cool breeze fluttered through the open window sliding up her bare skin. Whoever was lying next to her had an arm thrown over her body, holding her against him. Through the cloudy stench of stale booze and cigarettes, she could smell the all too familiar scent of Old Spice cologne.

In all of her years in New York, she had met a total of four guys that wore that brand of cologne, all of which just so happened to work in the Newsroom along side her. It wasn't Neal, his arms were composed of more wiry and thin muscles. Will, who she knew was happily tucked in bed with one Mackenzie McHale. She knew for a fact that it wasn't Don because even drunk she wouldn't climb back into bed with him. Don was like her older brother and Maggie had watched him leave the Newsroom with his fingers not-so-subtly intertwined with Sloan's.

That left one man. The one and only Jim Harper.

_Shit,_ Maggie mouthed to herself.

"Mmm, Hallie," Jim grumbled shifting.

He pressed his lips against her exposed skin making a trail of kisses from her jawbone down her shoulder and Maggie stiffened as he pulled her closer to his body.

"I'm not Hallie," Maggie says.

"Mags," Jim exclaims letting go of her. Maggie pulls away from him, clutching a sheet to her chest. It's kind of redundant, she realizes, to hide herself from him. He's very clearly seen every inch of her body, explored it even judging by the hickeys contrasting against her pale skin. "Did we-?"

"No," Maggie said sarcastically. "I just make a habit of getting _naked_ with my co-workers then sharing a bed with them."

"Of course, we did_ it_," Maggie shouted, throwing a pillow at Jim's head. "I'm covered in hickeys and we are naked, you dumbass."

"Ow," Jim said.

"Now, where the hell are my clothes?" Maggie asked yanking the sheet off the bed with her as she walked around the room. To her dismay, she found her dress in a pile with Jim's clothes, ripped in half. "Shit."

"What?" Jim asked still lying in the bed. Maggie wanted to throw something else had him, harder than a pillow this time. He was just sprawled out on top of the mattress watching her scramble around the room like it was entertaining to watch her get all flustered. Both of his legs were peaking out of the bedspread and she could see everything but his junk which was hidden under the thin fabric.

"Do you make a habit of tearing cloths off of your partners?" Maggie asked holding up her mangled dress.

"Um, Mags," Jim said clearing his throat.

Maggie looked down to see that the sheet that was once securely tucked under her armpits was on the floor around her feet. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she bent down to gather the blanket.

"What the hell am I supposed to wear to work?" Maggie demanded.

"I can see if Hallie left anything in the closet," Jim offered. Maggie stared at him with her arms crossed over her chest and an expectant look spread on her features. "Oh, you meant now."

"Yeah," Maggie replied irritation very evident in her voice.

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The two walk stumbled through the glass doors and into the Newsroom less than an hour later, both showered and clothed. Maggie felt ridiculous in the clothes her and Jim had spent a good fifteen minutes digging for. The skinny jeans that were probably form fitting and sexy on Hallie, were too long and baggy on Maggie's body. She had on a white v-neck that smelled stale and sweaty and a little like mothballs. In a hurry, she practically covered herself in the perfume she had found kicked under the bed. Some kind of fruity knock-off designer fragrance that Maggie wouldn't be wearing if she wasn't desperate, probably left behind by Hallie or Lisa or some other girlfriend. Her sloppy outfit was tied together with a plaid button up shirt she had snagged from Jim's closet when he wasn't looking and a pair of black ballet flats from the Walmart down the block from the ACN building that her and Jim had made a quick run into on the way in that morning.

It was very obvious that something had happened the night before between the two of them. Even the security guard in the lobby noticed it. They both seemed on edge, trying to avoid each other and sneaking glances when they thought no one was looking.

It was Sloan who realized that Maggie was wearing one of Jim's shirts. Then, it was Neal who added to the evidence table that he had seen them climbing out of the cab together. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had gone on the night before. They just didn't know what it meant. Obviously the duo had snapped under the tension that had been four years in the making. But now, would they let it rebuild or would they finally just pull on their big kid pants and confront the fact that they felt something a little bit stronger than they should have for each other.

"Do we ask them about it or not?" Neal asked walking up behind Mac.

"No," Mac said. "We let them figure it out for themselves."

"Did that just come out of _your_ mouth?" Don asked incredulously.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Mackenzie asked.

"Nothing," Don replied. "It's just you're the fucking queen of meddling."

"I am not!" Mackenzie exclaimed, stomping her foot.

Her little outburst was followed by a chorus of 'yeah, you are' and 'well' and a few 'kindas'. She looked a Will for a little assistance, but he simply held his hands up in surrender leaning back in his chair.


	3. Chapter 3

They spent the next couple of weeks sidestepping each other and sneaking sideways glances. Jim saw her wear his shirt a few times over that time span. He didn't bother to point it out and he wasn't sure if it was because that he liked it better on her or if he could gather the guts to do it.

Maggie came into the office one day to find a dress sitting in her chair, another just like the one that had gotten destroyed on _that night. _The price on the tag had been scribbled out with black permanent marker, but she knew how much it cost. She had bought one just like it for $150 after waiting several months to descend from its original price that peaked up into the $900 range. Only one person knew about that dress and she had done her best to keep from talking to him unless it had something to do with work.

They were back to square one, Maggie realized. It was just like it was after the _Sex and The City _tour bus incident. Sharing nothing more than snarky comments and little supposedly inconspicuous gazes. Maggie was smart, not as smart as Sloan, but smart enough to notice Jim watching her ever so carefully.

And Mackenzie, despite every fiber of her being screaming at her to do otherwise, just waited. She was quite proud of herself, too. But she hated every second of it. Hated watching two people that she loved do a little dance around each other like they were some kind of ballerinas. Which, no matter how much she loved him, Jim wasn't graceful enough to be. Maggie, maybe, but never Jim, not in a billion years.

"Why don't they just," Mackenzie started.

"What?" Will asked handing her a cup of coffee. He sat down next to her on the couch and felt her small frame cuddle into him. "Make up? Kiss? Go at it in the conference room?"

"I don't know," Mackenzie replied. "Just talk to each other."

"Because," Will said. "They're young and clueless."

"Isn't that a soap opera?"

"No, it's _The Young and the Restless._"

"Oh, right. But I'm serious, Billy, they're perfect for each other."

"How do you know that, Mac? For all you know, they could end up with other people."

"Because I know theses things," Mackenzie replied. "They're like us, Billy; they're late bloomers."

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Jim found himself at the office late, like way late. The clock hanging on the wall read 1:02. By now, everyone had left except for himself and the only light in the room was the lamp on his desk.

When his cell phone started buzzing in his pocket, he was sure that he was losing his mind. But sure enough, when he pulled it out Maggie's picture had popped up on the screen. He slid the little icon and the screen and tucked it between his ear and shoulder fully expecting for it to be a drunken butt dial or her cat getting a hold of her phone. Jim did not expect to actually hear her voice sounding through the speaker.

"Jim," Maggie said, her voice crackling with the tears that he could only imagine that were spilling down her cheeks. Suddenly, the work on his desk was irrelevant.

"Mags," Jim said. "What's wrong?"

"Can you come pick me up?" Maggie sniffled.

"Where are you?" Jim asked tucking the phone under his ear.

"I'm-I'm outside of my apartment building," Maggie replied. "Lisa kicked me out."

"Why?" Jim demanded shoveling papers into his bag and switching off his desk lamp. He practically ran out of the newsroom, sprinting toward the elevator.

"I-um-I'll tell you when you get here," Maggie whispered.

The other end of the line went dead. Jim pocketed his phone jumping into the elevator. When the bell dinged on the first floor, Jim flew through the sliding door and pushed past the few people lingering in the hallway. When the taxi pulled in front of Maggie's building, she was sitting on the pavement surrounded by a few bags.

As he approached her, feet pounding against the sidewalk, he could see her knees drawn into her chest. Her eyes were blood shot with tears and her body shook with what was left of a round of sobs. When Maggie saw him, she jumped to her feet and ran toward him, abandoning her belongings on the ground. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him as if he might just disappear in a puff of smoke. Jim pressed a soft kiss on top of her head, allowing her slight frame to be enveloped in his arms.

"What happened, Maggie?" He asked, pulling her back to look at her in the eyes. She refused to meet his gaze staring at a button on his shirt or the ground. Anything to avoid seeing whatever type of pity was dancing around in his big brown eyes. When he used his thumb to lift her chin, she was met with concern clouding his eyes.

"She kicked me out," Maggie sighed. "Because she found this."

Jim watched Maggie shove her hand in her back pocket and produce a small little piece of plastic. Jim ran a hand through his hair and stared at it incredulously.

"Um, Mags," Jim said, his voice cracking. "How long have you...exactly how long have you had that?"

"Two weeks," Maggie said wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Look, Jim, you don't have to do anything. You don't even have to help me at all. I can find a job at, like, the Washington office or I can switch networks. I don't expect anything from you. You don't have to be in this baby's life, but I'm going to have it."

"Maggie," Jim said.

"I want this baby. It can be something good in my life. Again, you totally don't have to do anything."

"Maggie," Jim repeated.

"Oh, shit. What are my parents going to say? They're going to disown me. Not that they already hadn't, I mean, they hated me for coming to New York in the first place. They stopped calling me after Don and I broke up and they cut me out of the will when I did that piece in Boston. I'm going to be a better parent for this baby than my parents were for me," Maggie continued her rant.

Jim smashed his lips against hers, cutting her off mid-ramble. Using his hands he cupped her cheeks ever so delicately. He could feel her arms wrap around his neck, her whole body just melting into the kiss. When both of their lungs were screaming for air, they pulled apart gasping and releasing shaky breaths.

"I want this baby," Jim said. "I want this baby and I want you, if you'll have me."

Maggie couldn't fight the grin spreading on her lips. "Well," she teased. "That all depends on one thing, Jim Harper."

"What is it, Maggie Jordan?" Jim asked.

"Can we go get something to eat?" Maggie asked. "I'm really hungry."

"Sure," Jim said, picking up a few of her bags. With his free arm, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her body close to his. "What are you hungry for?"

"Chinese."

"I know just the place."


	4. Chapter 4

A few boxes of take-out orange chicken and white rice later, the couple laid sprawled out on the couch in Jim's apartment. Each sipped on a glass of sparkling grape juice curling into each other, a pregnant woman friendly celebration. They were surrounded by a mountain of assorted pregnancy magazines and books that Maggie had insisted on purchasing while they were at the drug store picking up some kind of fancy pregnancy vitamins, Jim couldn't really remember what they were called. Pre-naval or something like that.

"Did you know that when you're pregnant, you're feet can grow a whole shoe size?" Maggie asked looking at her tiny sized five feet with horror.

"No," Jim said, completely enthralled with the magazine in his hand. He looked horribly disgusted at the very graphic images displayed on the slick page.

"Babe," Maggie said lifting her head from his chest. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jim said closing the magazine. "That was more than I wanted to know about the female anatomy during labor."

"You need anything?" Maggie sighed, sliding off of Jim and placing her feet on the floor. She placed a soft kiss on his forehead and brushed down the t-shirt she had snagged from Jim in the short time they had gotten back to the apartment. "I'm going to bed."

"Is that an open invitation?" Jim asked, a seductive little smile spreading on his lip.

"I don't know," Maggie replied, backing through the doorway slowly. She peeked her head around the doorframe, smiling at Jim with a twinkle in her eye. A little glisten that he hadn't seen since long before he left for New Hampshire "You tell me."

Jim swiped the magazines off of his lap and chased after the girl who had disappeared into the bedroom. When he entered the room, he saw Maggie standing on the other side of the bed her hand dancing precariously around the hem of her t-shirt with a smug smirk.

They didn't worry about telling anyone.

Sloan threatened to dismember Jim if he so much as thought of leaving Maggie to take care of their baby by herself. Don slapped Jim on the back with a congratulatory smile and a hearty 'it's about damn time.' Charlie was unbelievably ecstatic that he was going to be able to go by Grandpa Charlie. Tess and Jenna immediately started planning some extravagant baby shower that Maggie insisted she didn't need. Gary asked them to name the kid after him, which they so impolitely denied. Will took a drag on his cigarette, leaning back in his desk chair with a cup of brandy in his hand.

"You know you have to tell Mac," Will said. "And she's going to kill you."

She didn't kill them, but there was quite a lot of yelling. Really, she only grilled them. But wasn't it her job? After all she was supposed to watch out for her unrelated baby brother Jimmy. Somehow they found themselves sitting in two chairs in her office both wearing looks similar to a child's caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Mackenzie paced in front of them, her bare feet digging into the plush carpet with angry stomps. She rambled on and on about how irresponsible they were. Repeatedly, she shot them motherly glares and for some reason, reminded Jim of his mother that one time she found him naked with some girl, both of them reeking of booze and Marijuana. Bless his mother's heart, she didn't realize what that retched stench was, but she grounded him for what felt like forever.

"So," Mackenzie said, stopping suddenly and crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you two hooligans have to say for yourself?"

"W-well," Jim stuttered.

"We didn't mean for this to happen," Maggie said. Her words saved Jim who's mouth was hanging slightly agape and who was, for what appeared to be the first time in the entire time any of them had known each other, entirely speechless.

Her answer didn't seem to satisfy Mackenzie. Jim was scared the little vein straining just above her right eye might just burst. He stumbled through his thoughts, trying to piece together something that might stop the petite woman standing in front of them from exploding into a ball of pure rage.

"But, we're keeping the baby," Jim said.

Mackenzie's stance softened, her eyes draining of the perpetual possibility of turning homicidal, murdering Jim and disposing of him in some dumpster behind a greasy Chinese restaurant. Catching them both off guard, she squealed excitedly and threw her arms around them.

"I'm so proud of you guys," Mackenzie exclaimed.

"You are?" Maggie asked, wriggling out of her bone-crushing embrace.

"You guys finally pulled your shit together and realized that you were made for each other," Mackenzie replied as if it were obvious.

"Thank you?" Maggie said.

"So this means you're not going to kill us?" Jim asked.

"Why would I do that, Jimmy? I love kids!"

"Well, we have known for about three months now and didn't tell you. Ummm, we drank irresponsibly and were too drunk to actually think about protection. Should I go on?"

"All technicalities," Mackenzie said. "Wait, you've known for three months and didn't tell me? That hurts."

"Well, we wanted to be sure," Maggie said.

"I'm going to pretend that was a good excuse," Mac said plopping down in her desk chair. "Now, get back to work, we have a show to put on."

And that was that. All that really mattered now was simply that, the show. The show; what all of them lived for.


	5. Chapter 5

"We need a name," Maggie stated, her soft voice cutting through the silent veil like a little knife.

It was late, way too late for anyone to be awake. But they were journalists, having stumbled into their apartment only thirty minutes ago. Jim had assumed Maggie had passed out almost immediately after they had gotten in bed. Her head was pressed to his chest like it often was, memorizing each little flutter of his heart.

"What?" Jim asked, sleep infiltrating his words.

"We need a name for him," Maggie replied rubbing her hand over her expanding abdomen.

"Do we have to do this now?" Jim grumbled reaching out and switching on the lamp. He ran a hand over his eyes and through his hair letting out an exasperated huff. The couple had spent the last several weeks trying to decide on a name. Ever since they had found out that it was a boy, the two had scoured through all of the name books Maggie had impulsively bought at the bookstore.

Jim had suggested they name him after Daniel. Maggie stared at him with an ice cold gaze that rivaled Sloan Sabbath's upon the suggestion. Jim stopped pushing names, being reminded very abruptly that Maggie wasn't one-hundred percent yet. Add the raging pregnancy hormones and you couldn't predict what would make her crack. That had pretty much ended the name discussion after what turned into a big meltdown. Well, ended it until now.

"Yes," Maggie said. And that was that. He watched her lean over the end of the bed and under the bed with a slight grunt escaping her lips. She produced a single name book flipped open to a page toward the middle. In the margins, there were little scribbles of names in Maggie's curly cursive and names highlighted in pink marker. Apparently she hadn't let the name thing go, she had continued working on it.

"You seem to have the name mostly picked out," Jim said leaning back on the headboard.

"I have three, but I can't decide between them. And I wanted you to help me, I mean, he's your baby too."

"What names do you have?"

"Jared, Nathan or Samuel," Maggie listed.

"Not Samuel," Jim said. "There was a kid in my second grade class named Samuel, he caused a traumatic gum incident."

"Oh, traumatic," Maggie teased.

"It was," Jim defended. "Second graders are cruel."

"I bet," Maggie smiled crossing off the name with the pen she had dug out of her nightstand.

"They are," Jim insisted. "Stop laughing."

"I'm not," Maggie said swallowing the chuckles climbing up her throat. "I'm not laughing. Sorry."

"Okay," Jim said. "The other two names."

"Jared and Nathan."

"Nathan," Jim said enunciating the syllables as if he were taking it out for a test drive on his tongue. His face contorted into a look his father often gave him and he extended his finger. "Nathan, stop hiding frogs under your sister's bed."

Maggie smiled, "Sister?"

"What?"

"You said sister," Maggie said. "You want to have more kids?"

"Well, yeah," Jim said, blushing a little. "But only if it's alright with you. Someday, I want more kids."

"I'd like that."

"So, Nathan," Jim said.

"Nathan Daniel Harper."

Jim wasn't shocked about the Daniel part, he knew she would end up tacking that name somewhere in their son's name at some point. She was Maggie Jordan after all. It was the Harper part that caught him off guard.

"Harper?"

"Well, like you said," Maggie replied running her hands up Jim's chest. "Someday, we'll have more kids. They should all have the same last name, right?"


	6. Chapter 6

"No," Maggie said, pressing a hand to the small of her back. Seven months. There was this big baby inside of her and she wasn't even big enough to hold a whole Big Mac. And she had to pee, like, all the freaking time. The baby enjoyed using her bladder as a cushy pillow.

"Margaret Jordan," Mackenzie said, crossing her arms. "We are throwing you a baby shower."

"Guys, you really don't need to," Maggie replied.

"We don't need to, we want to," Sloan corrected. "Let us do this, it's what friends do for each other."

"Fine," Maggie relented, but no ridiculous games.

"Maggie," Mackenzie whined. "That's the best part."

"You are allotted one game and it cannot have anything to do with mine or Jim's baby pictures. Got it?"

"Alright," Mackenzie huffed.

The two women walked away glowing and giggling over plans that were already being exchanged. Maggie sighed plopping down in her chair and rubbed her hand over her stomach, feeling her son's foot pressing through her skin. Grunting, she leaned forward and typed away on her computer. She glanced over the news alerts finding nothing but a yellow screen.

"It's boring out here too, buddy," Maggie whispered. She had taken up, entirely by accident, talking to her little boy. It would've horrified her mother and the people around the office probably thought she was ridiculous, but to hell with what they thought. She was gonna talk to her baby until she was blue in the face.

Until about two months ago, being pregnant hadn't felt real to her yet. Yeah, there was this huge bump forming that made it almost impossible to move, they had picked out a name and even started putting together the nursery. But it wasn't real until she had felt the baby move.

It was late at night, apparently that was when all the big milestones in the pregnancy happened, and Maggie had been so excited that she had practically smacked him trying to wake him up.

"Feel this," Maggie exclaimed at a delirious Jim. She grabbed him roughly and placed his hand on her stomach, smiling at him expectantly when she felt a little flutter beneath her skin. He of course felt nothing, believing that Maggie was suffering from a serious case of what Sloan referred to as pregnancy-brain.

But about a month later, she would do the same. She would wake him up, more gently this time, on a night where their son was being especially restless and moved his hand along her skin. This time, he did feel it. It was like a little butterfly beneath his palm.

"That's amazing," Jim said leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to lips. "It's him, it's our little boy!"

Maggie rose to her feet with a small struggle and walked across the walkway to Jim's desk. She stood next to him glancing briefly at his screen. It looked just as yellow and uneventful as her own did. Guess it was shaping up to be a slow news day.

"How are you doing, babe?" Jim asked snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. She giggled feeling his lips against the sensitive skin on her jawbone.

"The usual," Maggie replied. "Sore back and I have a six armed monkey growing inside of me that never stops moving."

"I heard Sloan talking about a baby shower," Jim said.

"Yeah, her and Mackenzie are plotting something."

"Sounds dangerous," Jim said.

"And horrifying," Maggie added.

"Are there going to be baby pictures involved?" Jim asked.

"No," Maggie replied. "I made them swear that there wouldn't be a single baby picture on the premises."

"Smart move," Jim smiled. "Have I ever told you that I find intelligence extremely attractive?"

"You might have mentioned it once or twice."


	7. Chapter 7

"Jim," Maggie shouted from the living room. He came bursting in, a cheese grater clutched in one hand and an onion in the other.

"What?" Jim cried.

"What the hell would an onion and a cheese grater do if there was a bad guy trying to hurt me?" Maggie winced putting a hand on her back. "What would you do? Grate him to death?"

"I was in a hurry," Jim pouted.

"Gahhhh," Maggie screamed. Jim dropped the two objects in his hand and was across the living room in two long strides.

"What is it?" Jim asked.

"Something's wrong," Maggie huffed.

It was then that Jim saw the blood that was smeared all over her clothes and her hands. There was a pool of water where she had been sitting on the couch. In all the books and magazines they had read and all the classes, everything that had to do with bleeding like that was bad. Like emergency room bad.

Jim ran into their bedroom and came back with the go bag that Mac had told them they needed to have ready. He had rolled her eyes when she suggested it, she had never had a baby before. But right about now, he was more grateful to her than when she dragged him across the middle east on her adventures.

He threw the duffle bag over his shoulder like it was a backpack, shot a quick text to Mac and Sloan to meet him at the hospital and found Maggie hunched over in pain where he had left her not seconds ago. As gently as he could, he lifted Maggie into his arms and the couple was off.

Maggie was secured in the car –they had made the first payment on the Mazda like two days before –and Jim was speeding out of the parking garage. He heard his phone ding, probably Mackenzie pissed off for texting her at 11:30. They arrived only minutes later, but for the both of them it felt like an eternity being dragged out in spite of them.

"I'll be right back," Jim said kissing her on the cheek and disappearing through the automatic double doors. He returned with a swarm of nurses who helped Maggie out of the car. Jim hadn't realized there were tears in his eyes until a nurse put a hand on his shoulder.

"We're going to do everything that we can," she reassured in a soft voice. She had probably done this before, rehearsed that line about a billion times. "Go park your car and we'll get your wife checked in. It'll be okay."

Jim didn't have the strength to correct the woman standing in front of him, Maggie wasn't his wife. God, he wanted her to be, but they had both decided that they weren't ready for that. When they got married, it would be because it was the right time, not because they were having a baby. Jim kept his mouth shut and hopped back into the running car. By the time he parked the car Mackenzie, Sloan and their respective husbands were gathered in the waiting room.

"How is she?" Don asked. There was concern and something like fear dancing around in his eyes. They had broken up a long time ago, both realizing that they were entirely wrong for each other, but Don hadn't just ignored her. Instead of the boyfriend, Don had taken on the older brother role pretty quickly, keeping a watchful eye on Maggie.

"I don't know yet," Jim said, choking on his words. It was Sloan, surprisingly, who broke the space between Jim and his friends. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed his back, trying her best to be supportive and comforting.

"Jimmy," Mackenzie said offering a sad smile. "It'll be okay."

But it wasn't okay. Of course it wasn't okay, and he wasn't even allowed to be in there when everything went even further to hell. The doctor said that there wasn't a cause, sometimes this kind of thing just happens. Maggie didn't believe that. She didn't ever voice that, but he knew that she didn't, the guilt in her eyes was all the proof that he needed.

A nurse had let Jim hold Nathan for only a minute. He was so small, bundled up in a soft blue blanket. There wasn't much hair on the top of his head, just a few tufts of fine blonde hair. If Jim hadn't known any better, he would've said that Nathan was sleeping. But he knew better and that's why there were more tears in his eyes than he had ever cried before.

Eventually, a nurse took his son away. Jim wasn't really sure where she was taking him, but he knew that he would never see their son again. That hurt worse than not seeing his tiny little chest rising and falling.

"How're you doing?" Jim asked sitting down in the chair pulled next to her hospital bed. Maggie looked broken and weak and her big blue eyes were dull, empty of anything but pain.

"I'm sore," Maggie said. "But the nurse told me that was normal."

Jim didn't know what to say. There just wasn't anything he could say to make this any better. He sat there with her hand in his own feeling completely and utterly helpless. He could feel her slipping away from him, slowly and painfully and there was nothing he could do to stop it.


	8. Chapter 8

Maggie wanted it to work. God, she wanted it to work so badly. But it didn't appear that success was in the cards they had been dealt. So she took that job in DC. She took that job without any intention of making long distance work either. It was just too much for her. Jim was a painful reminder of all that they had lost. Maggie knew that he had lost their son too, but….well….she didn't know….maybe it best for both of them to go their separate ways. Maybe a little space to breathe would be what was best for both of them; take the sting off the pain.

But who could blame her? Jim sure didn't. Yeah, it scared the shit out of him when he woke up to find her side of the bed empty. But that was nothing compared to the bullet to the gut he received when he found her note taped to the mirror in the bathroom.

_I'm sorry, I just can't do it._

_I took the job in DC. Please, don't call me._

_I love you, Jim, but I can't do this anymore. _

_Love, _

_Maggie_

And he didn't call her, but lord did he want to. Hell, he wanted to climb on a damn plane and run through DC like an idiot looking for her. What good would that do? She would shut him out, push him away, and maybe even hate him more than she already did.

The guys in the newsroom called it the divorce, not to either of their faces of course, but there was nothing else that they could think of to call it. Well, Sloan didn't. She didn't call it anything, didn't even want to think of it at all, but little snippets of that night somehow slipped through the cracks in her mind.

She could still see Jim just standing there. Not crying, not moving, and not even breathing. That was worse, the not crying part. But he couldn't even cry, he was too broken. She could still feel the air being sucked out of her lungs as that doctor said those words that sounded so dry and empty. _I'm sorry. _That was complete bullshit. In the corner of her eye she could see Mackenzie leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor like the burden of all that was being said was just too much to stand beneath. Will, the strongest man she had ever met, with little drops of tears welling up in his eyes.

And Don, oh god, Don. He looked like a wall standing in that hospital hallway. There was nothing on his face, nothing that Sloan could read to find whatever it was that he was feeling. "Maggie," he whispered. "How is she?" It wasn't until later that Sloan saw the toll that events of that god forsaken night on Don. Weeks later in fact that she opened the door to the apartment and found him just standing in front of the kitchen counter, his hands gripping so tightly to the granite edges that his knuckles were white. And he was crying. Not just a couple of miniscule tears, it was full-fledged sobbing.

Sloan didn't know what to do, but the second she walked through the door she knew what it was about. Something like instinct kicked in and she was across the living room in a few strides. Her black heels clacked against the hardwood floor as she approached Don.

Her arms wrapped around him, pulling his body into her frame. She tucked his head under her chin running her hands up and down his back. Don just folded into Sloan's body, his chest aching and stinging with a kind of pain he had ever experienced. His breathing evened, the shaking subsided and though there were still streaks on his cheeks, the tears had stopped.

"It's okay," Sloan whispered, kissing him softly.

Don's hands trailed to Sloan's abdomen. It was still flat, but if you looked closely you could see a little bump beginning to form. He couldn't imagine losing that baby, couldn't begin to fathom the kind of pain Jim and Maggie were experiencing.

They had all done so much to prepare for that baby. There was this big baby proofing party at Jim and Maggie's apartment that basically involved moving around stuff in the kitchen, covering outlets and the guys popping out a six pack while trying to put together the baby furniture. Everyone had wanted this baby, couldn't wait to have their turn to hold him and struggle to babysit him.

"Don," Sloan said putting a hand on his cheek. "That doesn't happen to every baby. It's a one in a million thing."

"I know," Don said. "But it isn't fair! Maggie and Jim don't deserve this, why do we get to have our baby?"

"You think that I don't think about that? You think that I don't feel guilty? But we can't change it. We are still going to have our baby and it isn't fair that Maggie and Jim aren't going to have theirs and that sucks, but that's how the universe works."

"I hate the universe," Don said.

"Me too."

**So I'm not big into author's notes, but I thought it's about time I write one for you guys. This isn't the end of the story, in case you are wondering. I plan for several more chapters. Key word plan, I'm not very good at the whole finishing fics thing. Anyway, I do appreciate reviews with any comments, advise, suggestions or even just pm's from you guys. **

**I'll try to write for you guys as often as I can, but school's about to start again and during the week I don't have a lot of time to just write. Between schoolwork, sleeping and dance I don't really have a lot of free time. **

**Okay, I'll stop boring you with my ranting. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


	9. Chapter 9

Maggie had done a pretty good job of avoiding New York City. It wasn't that she hated the city, but everything that was wrapped up inside it. In fact, she loved that city. Loved the expensive coffee and overpriced sandwiches. Missed the angry people on the subway and the rude taxi drivers. God, she missed her friends from the newsroom. Hell, she missed the newsroom.

She just couldn't stand the memories that came flooding back every time she even thought about setting foot in that city. God forbid she actually went back to New York, she couldn't even begin to imagine what memory would slide into her mind.

But she had to come back to the city, it was just inevitable. Maggie had spent so many years passing off jobs that had anything to do with New York City or came within close proximity of that damn city. She couldn't pass off this job though, wouldn't dream of it. It was a swing state speech from a presidential candidate after all. If she passed up this opportunity, she wouldn't just be stubborn, she'd be stupid.

Maggie had stepped off the train with no intention of informing anyone from the newsroom that she was home. She didn't take into account that she only actually knew of one coffee shop in the whole city and it so happened to be where everyone from the newsroom also went to.

"Maggie," a familiar British voice asked.

"Mackenzie," Maggie said, plastering on a smile that was just about as fake as a Barbie doll. She knew Mac could see right through it, after all she was some kind of genius. "How have you been?"

"Great," Mackenzie replied. "How about you?"

"Pretty good," Maggie said. "How are Will and….um…the kids?"

_Shit. _She didn't remember the names of their kids. Maggie had gotten both birth announcements and they had been on her fridge.

"Jacob and Lucy are great, and Will….is well…he's Will," Mackenzie smiled, earning a slight chuckle from Maggie. "How long are you in town for?"

"Two weeks," Maggie said.

"Will and I are having a fourth of July get together with some of the people from the newsroom," Mackenzie said. "You should stop by."

"I don't know, Mac," Maggie said.

"C'mon, Maggie," Mackenzie pleaded.

"Alright," Maggie agreed.

"Our apartment, do you remember where it is?" Mackenzie asked grabbing her latte from the counter.

"Yeah," Maggie said. "I think."

"I'll text you the building number," Mackenzie smiled. "I've got to go, but we need to catch up."

Mackenzie kissed Maggie's cheek softly and was gone with the flip of her hair. Maggie grabbed her coffee off the counter and found a table in the corner. She pulled out her laptop and typed away on the keys.

Maggie, in all of her hatred for her, had learned one thing from her mother. Never go to a party empty handed. On her way to the party she stopped at the liquor store to pick up a six pack of Will's favorite beer and by the checkout counter there were these dry looking sugar cookies with red and blue sprinkles that looked really awful, but she bought them on impulse. Maybe the kids would like them or something.

She knocked on the door with beer and cheap cookies in tow. It was Neal who opened the door with a shocked expression forming on his features and a very noticeable hickey on his jaw. Not much had changed about him, he still wore khakis and plaid shirts. His hair was still that spiky gelled thing that he thought looked cool and he still had those big brown puppy dog eyes.

"Maggie," Neal said pulling her into a hug. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah," Maggie smiled. "It's great to see you, Neal."

"You too, Mags," Neal said stepping aside so she could enter.

The two walked into the living room, stepping over the two kids sprawled out on the floor with a rather large dog and stack of coloring books. Another slightly older one ran across the room, definitely a Keefer kid judging by the beautiful raven hair and big blue eyes that resembled her ex-boyfriend's.

The door leading to the terrace was open to reveal Will and Don standing in front of a grill each with a beer in their hands. Mackenzie and Sloan were in the kitchen surrounded by bowls of unnecessary large amounts of food. There was a small child on Sloan's hip, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and a thumb in her mouth.

"Maggie," Mackenzie exclaimed rounding the corner.

"I brought beer and these cookies," Maggie said.

"Oh," Mackenzie said. "You didn't have to do that."

After what felt like an eternity of painful girl-talk and several uncomfortable hugs, Maggie managed to sneak away to the terrace with a couple of cold ones in hand. She leaned against the doorframe smiling over the city she had abandoned so hastily.

"Well look who it is," Don said. Maggie hadn't even realized anyone was looking at her. "Maggie Jordan, my favorite blonde."

"Aww, how sweet," Maggie said tossing him a beer. "You're my favorite curly-headed weirdo."

"That hurt, Maggie," Don said wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Where'd you get this beer, Maggie," Will asked reveling in the first sip.

"The liquor store off of 95th," she replied plopping down in one of the wicker chairs.

"You've still got it, Margaret," Will said kissing her temple.

"Okay," Maggie said. "Now that you've both buttered me up, what do you guys want?"

"Maggie," Don said.

"Don't Maggie me, I knew that you want something from me. I want to know what it is you want," Maggie said taking a long sip from her bottle.

"We want you to come back to the newsroom," Don said.

"Don," Maggie said. "I'm a field producer in _DC, _that's what I've always wanted to be. I can't go back to being a little producer that after being a field producer for all these years."

"Not a producer, Maggie," Will said.

"Mac is stepping down," Don sighed. "I'm taking over as president of the network which means I'm in charge of hiring the people to fill the empty spots. We've had an anchor seat empty for awhile…"

"I'm not an anchor, guys," Maggie cut in.

"Do you remember back in Boston?"

"Of course I remember Boston."

"You did amazing in Boston," Will said.

"Yes, but that was a fluke about half a decade ago."

"It wasn't a fluke, Maggie," Don said. "You were good."

"I'll think about it," Maggie said climbing to her feet.

She walked into the house, sitting down on a couch in the living room. The two kids who were coloring had abandoned their crayons and had moved onto a Winnie the Pooh puzzle on the coffee table. She watched what appeared to be the older of the two instruct the blonde little boy to find a hot pink piece to be Piglet's belly. Maggie also had seen the child that was attached to Sloan earlier toddle over and take that very piece.

"Mama," the little girl said.

"No," she said placing a hand to her chest. "I'm Maggie."

The little girl stumbled over the syllables, producing a jumble of letters that resembled something along the line of 'Mggie'.

"What's your name, cutie?" Maggie asked poking the little girl's stomach.

"Abby," she replied giggling.

There was a knock at the door. Maggie looked around to see if anyone was moving to answer it. When she saw no one, she rose to her feet. Abby raised her chubby little arms up in Maggie's direction. A little awkwardly, she picked up the toddler and crossed the room. She pulled open the door and was met with the face of someone she didn't expect to see. Jim Harper.

"Hey," Maggie said.

"Hey, Mags," Jim said, not missing the flinch the little nickname earned from Maggie. "I see you've met Abigator."


	10. Chapter 10

"Hey, Mags," Jim said, not missing the flinch the little nickname earned from Maggie. "I see you've met Abigator."

"Yeah, she kind of attached herself to me," Maggie said stepping to the side. Jim stepped in for a hug, but after a second thought better of it.

"How long have you been back?" Jim asked.

"I got in on Monday to cover the campaign tour in New York," Maggie said switching Abby onto her other hip. "What about you, I heard you were covering the oil spill in Europe?"

"It's been keeping me busy," Jim said. "I'm really happy to be back in New York."

"Well," Maggie said searching her mind frantically for something to say. "I've got to go…um….help Sloan cook…something." With that, she was gone practically sprinting into the kitchen.

"'ncle 'immy," Abby said playing with the strap of Maggie's tank top.

A startlingly loud, very disgusting noise came from the child clinging to Maggie. She looked around for help desperately, finding a very distracted Sloan pulling burning pastries out of the oven. Sloan, upon Maggie's request for help, told her that there were diapers in the bag by the front door.

Maggie grabbed the pink bag with adorable little white bunny rabbits dancing around and eating carrots. Jim and her had one for Nathan that looked almost exactly like that with green dinosaurs on it. She looked around for a minute wondering where the hell one would actually change a baby's diaper. After feeling like a freaking idiot for several excruciating seconds, Maggie walked down the hallway and into one of the extra bedrooms.

She laid down the little blanket she dug out of the bag and put Abby on top of it softly. Maggie looked around the bag looking for something for her to hold to keep her busy, but upon finding nothing took the bracelet off her wrist and handed it to the child. She didn't know why she did that, but she was pretty sure she had seen someone do that before.

Had she known that there was someone standing in the doorway watching her, she probably wouldn't have cooed or made those ridiculous noises at the giggling baby. But she didn't know that, so she did those things that she judged mom's in the public restrooms for doing without shame.

"You would've been a good mom, Maggie," Sloan said, startling Maggie. The other woman crossed the room, crouching down next to her on the floor. "Sorry, that might have been a bit forward."

"No, it's fine," Maggie said, helping Abby to her feet. "It's been five years, Sloan, you don't need to tiptoe around me."

"I know, it's just I couldn't imagine going through what you did," Sloan said watching her daughter babble quietly to herself. "I love my kids, loved being pregnant. I hated labor, but I loved being able to hold them for the first time. I can't even begin to comprehend that."

"Sloan, I'm really happy for you and Don. Really," Maggie reassured. "I'm not going to fall apart at the sight of a child. If I couldn't, I wouldn't have come to the party."

"I'm glad your back, Maggie."

"It's good to be back," Maggie smiled. Despite the perpetual awkwardness hanging in the air like humidity, Maggie found herself actually meaning those words. It was good to be back, New York City was her home. No matter how much time passed.


	11. Chapter 11

She knew this was a bad idea, knew that this would come back to bite her in the ass, but she took the job anyway. Maggie walked into the newsroom with her hair tied in a bun on the top of her head and a new bag on her shoulder. Her heart was beating about a million miles a minute and it felt like there were massive butterflies filling her stomach. It felt like that first time she came here, when she was a small little intern fresh out of her second try at college.

"Welcome back, Margaret," Don said stepping into the elevator next to her.

"Why do you call me that?" Maggie asked crossing her arms over her chest. "You sound like my mother."

"Fine," Don huffed, faking exasperation. "Welcome back, _Maggie_."

"Thank you," Maggie said. "It's good to be back, _Donald._"

"God, now you sound like _my _mother."

With a ding the doors slid open to reveal the hustle and bustle of the newsroom. It looked just like it did when she left all those years ago. Same stacks of paper, same chairs and cluttered desks, same people and same endless rattle of the air conditioning unit that drove her out of her mind.

Maggie stepped into the room, taking in the scent of brewing coffee, Will's cigarettes and the perpetual body odor that just couldn't be removed no matter how many air fresheners she plugged into the wall outlets. This was the world she missed, despite the nasty mixture of perfumes that were strictly found in the newsroom. It was her home.

Tess saw her first, practically sprinting across the room at first sight. Which was quite a sight given that the other woman was very pregnant. "Maggie," she exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "How have you been?"

"Me?" Maggie asked. "What about you? It looks like you've been busy."

Maggie didn't even remember Tess having a boyfriend, let alone being married. But there was a shiny golden band with a huge sparkly diamond adorning her finger that told her otherwise. She tired her best to peel herself out of Tess' strong hold.

"I've got to get back to work, but we should totally have lunch sometime," Tess said waddling back to her desk.

"Sure thing," Maggie called.

She felt kind of useless sitting in her office, she felt like she should've been doing something to help prepare for the show or something. No. She just had to sit there and pick out what outfit she wanted to wear for the lunchtime broadcast that she, Maggie Jordan, would be doing.

When she had negotiated her contract with Don, she had added the stipulation that she would get to be in the control room at least looking over their shoulders during the news night broadcast. Don reluctantly gave in to her request. Who could say no to those big puppy dog eyes and that little pout? He sure couldn't.

"How's your first day going?" Will asked peaking a head in through her doorway.

"Is it always this boring?" She huffed leaning back in her chair.

"Pretty much," Will smiled.

"I don't know how I feel about that," Maggie said. "But I do like this name plate, it makes me feel official. 'Margaret Jordan', it sounds British."

Will smiled a little bit, sitting down in one of the brightly covered chairs on the other side of her desk. Whoever picked them out was either high on caffeine or was a five year old girl in the 70s. Maggie folded her hands on her desk, leaning over like she had seen Will.

"This better be important or get the hell out of my office," Maggie huffed.

"Impressive, but you forgot the glass of scotch and cigarette," Will said.

"Scotch makes me sick and I don't smoke, but," she started, rolling back her chair and opening the mini fridge under her desk. She pulled open the fridge and produced a can of root beer, a half drank wine cooler and three juice boxes. "Can I interest you in a beverage?"

"Where did you find those?" Will asked.

"They were in my fridge when I got here," Maggie said.

"I'll take a juice box," Will said.

"Grape or apple?"

"Surprise me."

Maggie pulled two glasses her desk drawer and using her scissors, poked a hole in the top of the grape juice box and poured it into the two glasses. She took a sip of one, making a disgusted face at the sickly sweet taste. "God, that's awful," Maggie gagged.

"How old is that?" Will coughed.


	12. Chapter 12

Six years. Six years since the incident. Maggie did what she always did on the anniversary; found the closest bar and found sanctuary in the bottom of a bottle. She lost count of how many drinks she had drowned the pain in. Guessing by how the world was spinning around her at a sickening speed, she figured that she had consumed far more than what would have been healthy.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, a jarringly familiar collection of fingers. Whoever it was climbed onto the stool next to her, watching her empty the contents of her glass. After her last gulp of the hard liquor burning its way down her throat, her companion cleared their throat.

"Maggie," she said.

"What?" She asked, turning to face her co-worker. It was Mackenzie, worry blemishing her face. Maggie could imagine what was going through the older woman's mind, how pitiful she must've looked sitting there. She was sure there were tears on her face, not really sure whether or not she was crying at that very moment.

"Let's get you home," Mackenzie said laying down a wad of crisp green bills. Maggie felt a soft grip around her wrists, pulling her ever so gently away from the bar. She stumbled down from her stool, tripping on her own feet as Mac lead her through the cloud of cigarette smoke, weaving through the drunken men shouting slurs at each other and the couples making out.

"It's the anniversary," Maggie said, letting her body fold into Mackenzie's warm embrace.

"I know, darling," Mackenzie said.

"Why does it have to hurt?" Maggie said, feeling fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Because you lost someone you loved," Makenzie replied. "That's a weight that is hard to bear."

"I lost two people I loved," Maggie whispered, so quietly that Mackenzie could hardly hear her over the rush of the city. And it was those words that startled both women as they hung in the cool evening air. Maggie was amazed that she had actually allowed them to escape her mouth, Mackenzie shocked to hear them.

"Only one was an accident," Mackenzie reminded, images of that day Jim came into the office flashing in her mind. The day Maggie didn't come with him. He was broken. In the weeks that followed, Mackenzie remembered how awful it was to watch him crumble under the burden of losing Nathan and Maggie, both having been stolen from him.

Even in her drunk state, Maggie recognized the bitterness in Mackenzie's voice. She knew that she had hurt Jim in so many cruel ways when she left for DC, but that was the way it had to be. Maggie couldn't see them recovering from losing their little boy, only saw more pain. That morning when she got on that plane, it was like ripping off the bandage. Yes, it hurt. Oh God, it hurt more than anything in her entire life, but it was also liberating.

The next morning when she woke up, she had somehow found her way back into her apartment, so carefully tucked into her bed. There was a big glass of water and two little pills on her nightstand. A note scrawled out in Mackenzie's curly little cursive letters rested on top of her alarm clock.

_I recommend a large coffee and something_

_with an unhealthy amount of grease for _

_breakfast. Come into the office as soon as possible,_

_I'll make sure everything is in order for you show. _

_-Mackenzie_

Maggie swallowed the pills and downed the glass of water, ignoring the horrible pounding in her skull. She rolled out of bed, groaning loudly and lied on the floor letting out large whine. Somehow, she managed to coax herself into the shower, not even bothering to adjust the temperature. She let the ice cold water run over her skin as she stood under the spray.

By the time she got to work, it was nearly ten o'clock, which went against every fiber of her punctual being. When she stumbled into her office, in hindsight heels were a bad idea today, she found a steaming cup of coffee from the shop across the street sitting on her desk. Maggie dropped her bag on the floor, discarding her coat along with it. She slumped in her chair, not bothering to take off her sunglasses.

"Rough morning," Sloan asked passing by her office.

"You have no freaking idea," Maggie grumbled back.

"Mackenzie informed me of you escapades last night," Sloan said inviting herself to sit in one of the chairs across from Maggie's desk. "I'm all for self-medicating on alcohol every once in a while, but Maggie, if it is still this bad six years later that you think you need to get hammered drunk, don't you think it's time to get help?"

"I lost my son, Sloan," Maggie snapped, feeling her voice reverberate inside her pounding brain. "That's not just something that gets better with time. This is going to be something that I have to live with for the rest of my life. I'm going to have to deal with the fact that it's my fault."

It was horribly quiet for a painful amount of time after her little outburst. Neither woman could bring herself to say anything.

"It wasn't your fault," Sloan said, not looking directly at Maggie.

"What?" Maggie asked.

"Losing the baby wasn't your fault," Sloan repeated, staring Maggie in the eyes. And with that, she was gone. Rising gracefully from her seat and marching out of the room, Sloan disappeared back into the newsroom as if she hadn't even been there at all.

Everyone had heard the little explosion from Maggie, anyone who had ears heard it. And Jim, well, he had ears.


	13. Chapter 13

"It's not your fault," Jim says, sneaking up behind her in the line at the little café they all prefered. At first, Maggie doesn't know what he means. But after searching her still-pounding mind, her thoughts finally roll over the conversation her and Sloan had.

She tries to play it off like she doesn't hear him, tries to keep her eyes on the board listing off specials. Jim saw that little shift in her eyes, the way her muscles in her back tightened when she heard his voice. Besides, Maggie _always_ ordered the same turkey sandwich and iced tea, she didn't need to look at the menu.

"You don't have to listen to me," Jim said. "You don't even have to talk to me, but just please know that what happened wasn't your fault. I don't blame you for losing Nathan."

"You might not blame me," Maggie replied not looking at him. "But I do."

Suddenly feeling the emptiness in her stomach fill with tears she was trying to keep from spilling from her eyes, Maggie turned to walk out the door.

"Where are you going?" Jim asked.

"Back to the office," she said so softly he could hardly hear her over the sound of sizzling pans and names being called out. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Jim stands there for a minute staring at the door she had just stormed out of. They had made a habit of that, her walking out and him just watching her go. Even when people plowed through the door, making Maggie seem further and further away, he couldn't pull his eyes away. He hoped quietly that maybe she would come back in, her mind changed.

It wasn't until the lady behind him so excessively loud cleared her throat that he actually realized how ridiculous it was for him to hope for such a thing. When he stepped up to the counter to order, the turkey on rye in the display was screaming at him. So he ordered one, along with his usual. For good measure, he got an extra tea as well.

He was apparently very good at the sneaking up thing because when he place his peace offering on the table, he could see her jump about a foot in the air even though her back was to him. "What do you want, Jim?" Maggie asked. He could hear the pain in her voice, hear the little drops of water tearing rifts in her words.

"I brought you lunch," Jim said, placing the little bag and to-go cup on her desk. "It's a peace offering."

"We aren't at war, Jim," Maggie whispered, twisting around in her chair.

"Then why are we doing this?" Jim asked, feeling this anger rising up inside of him. "Why are we acting like there has been casualties?"

"There was a casualty!" Maggie exclaimed.

Neither was really sure what happened next, there were words thrown out faster than either of their brains could process. But it was six years of anger and depression and all these nasty feelings spilling out like blood on a battlefield.

It wasn't until Jim was sitting in his apartment that night that he even began to understand the magnitude of what had been said. The anger had melted away slowly throughout the rest of the day, but it had left him entirely drained. There was guilt welling up inside of him now, making the emptiness even more unbearable.

Jim heard the rattle of keys at the door at about five o'clock. The door popped open and the familiar clack of Juliette's colorful pumps clacked against the entryway tile and his name escaped her perfectly glossed lips as she rounded the corner.

When she saw him slumped in the couch, staring blankly ahead at the TV that remained switched off, she ran a hand nervously through her long brown hair. "Darling," she said, her heavy French accent slicing up her words. "What is wrong?"

"Rough day at work," he said, looking at her and plastering on a smile that was so fake it hurt. "Nothing to be worried about."

"Okay," she said smiling. "I must make dinner tonight."

"Jules," Jim said. "You really don't have to."

As much as he loved her, she could not cook to save her life. She had lit several fires in their kitchen over the course of the couple months they had lived together. One specific fire lead to an entire evacuation of the building and a whole remodel of the kitchen.

"I insist," she said draping her messenger bag over the coat hanger in the corner. Good thing they had a fire extinguisher.


	14. Chapter 14

Maggie found herself in a bar, yet again. But the apple martini sitting on the drink stained bar in front of her, just sat there. She watched the little drops of perspiration on the glass slide down and collect in a ring on the red napkin the bar tender had laid out for her. Something about it didn't seem as inviting as she had hoped it would. The possibility of forgetting the pain, even for a minute, wasn't so appealing anymore.

Not when she knew that she'd wake up remembering everything she had risked alcohol poisoning to forget. Besides, she wasn't twenty-five anymore. She was almost thirty, she had responsibilities. Binge drinking didn't solve all of her problems anymore, one night stands and meaningless sex didn't calm the pain raging inside of her.

Besides, she didn't think she wanted to forget anymore. Maggie was sick of pushing those feelings down, tired of swallowing tears; it only made her stomach hurt. All it got her was anger and after yelling at both Jim and Sloan in one day, she knew that it wasn't an acceptable option anymore.

"Jim," Maggie said into her phone. Somehow, she was not entirely sure how, she was on the street. She realized now that she was walking in the wrong direction to get back to her apartment, but instead she was walking toward the newsroom. "I need to apologize."

Looking at her watch, Maggie realized it was past ten thirty, but he was still there when she left about an hour ago. Gaging by the stacks of paper piling on his deck, he was going to be there for quite a few more hours.

"Maggie?" Jim asked. "What are you talking about?"

"I've been acting like a child," she said. "I got hurt and I acted like it was just me who lost something in the hospital."

"You had every right to act like that, Mags," Jim said.

She hoped on the elevator, scanning her ID card on the laser. "No, I didn't," Maggie said as the doors slid open to reveal the newsroom. She was right, it was just Jim left, sitting at his desk illuminated by his lamp. "And I'm sorry." He turned to look at her standing there in the elevator, the phone still pressed to his ear. "I'm sorry."

Maggie crossed the newsroom, never once breaking eye contact with him. Jim found his legs moving, leading him closer to her. "I'm sorry," she repeated yet again. They were only inches apart now, so close Jim could feel her minty breath on his nose.

"Me too," Jim said, his fingers twisting and fidgeting, fighting to reach out and touch her. "I should have gone after you. You shouldn't have been able to walk away that easy."

Maggie leaned into Jim, resting her head in the crook of his neck. He enclosed her in his arms, taking in the sweet scent of her hair and feeling her every exhale tickle his shoulder. She molded into his body as if she were becoming a part of him again. Something she had craved for so long to be.

This time, there was no sex. No kissing or lust to distract from the peace. It was just them, in the most innocent way possible. Like they were children, holding hands on the playground and sharing animal crackers. Maybe that was what they both needed, to be little kids again.

**So, one of my infrequent author's notes. Bear with me, or scroll through it, that's what I usually do. So...I maybe...might have torn a major ligament in my knee which has amazingly opened up my schedule quite a lot. I have found that I have more than enough time to write, but this horrible case of self diagnosed writer's block. I know the last couple of installments have brutally sucked and I am horribly sorry for that. I'm not sure if this is where I'm ending the fic or not. I know that this left a lot of ends not tied and stuff, but I like ending stories like that. It seems...I don't know...more realistic that way. Anyway, if you have an ideas for this let me know and I'll try my best to incorporate them some how. Well, that is if there are any of you still out there reading this. **

**Love,**

**Kaylie**


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